


You're a Whiskey Girl Like Me

by Kelly123



Category: Red Rising Trilogy - Pierce Brown
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, I Have This Thing About Boys in Books, Kind of a drabble, Let's Get Drunk, Missing Scene, One-Shot, Spoilers for Morning Star, The Underdog Deserves Some Action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 00:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7992151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelly123/pseuds/Kelly123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because it had to start somewhere, didn't it?</p><p>(AKA, I'm not good with titles so I use New Girl quotes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Whiskey Girl Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Is no one else DYING to know how Sevro and Victra happened? All I wanted from Morning Star was for little Goblin to get some love, and Pierce just skips over it like my poor heart didn't depend on it...
> 
> If you want something done you have to do it yourself. I hereby beg of you all to do something with this better than what I managed.

“KITCHEN’S CLOSED!” Came a shout, and a clatter of glass followed as Victra let her hand still on the door she had attempted to open only a moment ago. Surprise was the only motivation for her instant obedience, and she had no inclination to meekly turn around and leave simply because a disembodied voice told her to. Obviously. However the unexpected occupant gave her a moment’s pause.

She needed a drink. She didn’t necessarily need to drink alone though, and the voice wasn’t quite an unwelcome one.

“Sevro?”

A pause. A weighted, contemplative pause.

“No.” Came the reply, whiny and petulant. Very Sevro and very, very drunk.

Unbidden, the corners of her mouth quirked up into a smirk, one that broadened into a full fledged grin as she ignored him and pushed her way into the room. This could be just what the tightly coiled, inner bitch gnashing its teeth in the pit of her stomach needed. Nothing against the rest of her newfound community, but sometimes it took a certain stubborn idiocy to push her buttons the way she liked them…and vice versa.

Sevro au Barca, just as she had thought, was seated at the table in front of her with a crystal tumbler on its side and a depleted decanter before him. His strange red eyes were narrowed and trained on the doorway as she entered, and he began to roll the sideways glass back and forth between his hands, shooting daggers at her all the while.

“Most people would have understood that meant stay the bloodyhell away.” He seethed, voice emerging in a slurred hiss from the grimace etched in his scarred face.

“Goblin, let’s remember now. I am not most people.” She all but purred, snatching the glass from him an instant before it rolled out of his hands and shattered on the floor. “And be careful with that would you? Breaking down the color system means there are no browns to come and clean up your messes you know. Especially when your darling Reaper is so very far away at the moment.”

“Hey! Gimme!” He exclaimed, seeming genuinely surprised she was not deterred by his intoxicated show of intimidation. Groggily, he swiped at the tumbler and missed, coming dangerously close to knowing over the whiskey as well.

“If you can’t handle your liquor, you shouldn’t be drinking…at least, not all by yourself without an adult to help you reach the bar.” In one fluid motion, she swept into to the seat across from him and swiped the alcohol safely out of his reach. He stared suspiciously as she pulled the glass and decanter in front of her so that she could serve up a generous pour for herself. She was slightly impressed at the impact he had made upon the bottle’s contents. She didn’t know many men who could have drank quite as much as he had and still be upright. 

“Not a bar dummy, it’s a table. And hey-that’s mine.” He slurred, making a move to dive over the furniture between them and retrieve it. She stopped him while he was half-crouched to leap with her outstretched palm.

“Relax.” Victra ordered, and, surprisingly, he did as she said. “There’s plenty of this for us both, don’t be greedy.”

Sevro settled back into his seat, mumbling, “Not greedy, you’re greedy” under his breath, which she ignored. She needed this, the warm tingle of the liquor infiltrating her senses...mmm, it was fittingly intoxicating. Tonight of all nights, she needed it almost as much as she suspected he might. 

“To Ragnar, shield of Tinus.” She said solemnly, all traces of mirth gone from her eyes. The news had come from Darrow earlier that day and the effect had…damped everyone’s spirits to say the least. She hadn’t seen much of Sevro in the hours to follow the fateful transmission, and she figured much of that time had been spent here. She could understand that, so much so that her sorrow at the fallen soldier surprised her more than a little. They were making her soft, these Sons, and she didn’t quite know how to deal with the onslaught of feelings. Except with alcohol of course. Tipping her head back, she all but drained the glass, handing it over to Sevro with a finger or so of the amber liquid remaining. He didn’t seem to notice his insufficient portion though, and his eyes remained glued to her with befuddled fascination.

“To Rags.” He echoed, holding her gaze for longer than he might have if sober. But then again, maybe not. With Sevro, you never knew. She did not falter from his stare, though she felt an unfamiliar sensation of irritation to know what he was thinking in that twisted mind. When he finally closed his eyes it was with almost a sort of reverence as he emptied what was left in his tumbler, a silent prayer passing through him in honor of his friend. Sevro didn’t like many people, that much was obvious, but he had respected Ragnar, as had everyone who had fought alongside him. His loss was a painful one, even for hardened hearts like theirs.

Her hands itched for purchase on the glass once more, but she forced herself to enjoy the residual tingle of the gulp she had taken before she poured another. She wasn’t looking to get blackout drunk tonight, there was too much to be done in the days to come. Instead she allowed the silence to linger comfortably between them until she broke it with a question she already knew the answer to. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Drinking your pain away?”

He looked up at her again, and she was thoroughly surprised to find herself a little thrilled by the glint she found in his red depths.

“Sweetheart, if we drowned our sorrows every time one of our men died, we would be awash in alcohol.” He growled, pouring them another glass.

Victra smiled in anticipation as the liquid swirled in the glass. Curiously, she noticed maybe for the first time, the curve of his mouth as he fitted his lips to the rim of the glass. It wasn’t a bad mouth, regardless of the filth that it issued forth into being. A bit severe maybe, but something of the same could be said for just about everything about him. Severe wasn’t bad, it fit him…and her. 

Sevro was severe. The alliteration almost made her giggle. Almost.

“Aren’t we though? Awash in alcohol, that is.” She asked, composing herself by tearing her eyes away from his mouth to pose the question.

He considered this, then took a hearty slug back into his throat and passed the drink back to her. “Depends on where the dry land is, I guess.”

“Well aren’t you just a regular drunk philosopher. But dot get ahead of yourself Plato, the shore is that right there. The bottle is far from as full as it was yesterday."

He chuckled, burped, and then laughed crudely again as she curled her nose up at him. “Maybe. You sound as though you had a few pulls yourself before intruding upon my solitude yourself.”

She cocked an eyebrow in his direction. She held her liquor well, but her late-night exploration had in fact been spurred on by emptying of what bit of drink she had stashed in her quarters. A girl had always need be prepared for any circumstance. “That is a very real possibility sir.”

“Ehh, not the worst thing though, considering.”

“Considering, eh? Just what exactly are you considering? Being awash in alcohol or my intrusion?”

Sevro murmured noncommittally and stood to take another glass from the cupboard behind them. She cocked her head to the side and watched him with curiosity. Sevro, huh? Well, she certainly hadn't seen that one coming. He wasn’t…traditional, by any means, but she found the idea of it made her heart beat a little faster. By the time he returned to her, refilling both glasses and sliding one to her, her smirk from earlier was back.

“Our plans have gone to shit, so why are you smiling?” He sneered at her and she felt her grin widen.

“I’m reassessing the situation, making new plans, shifting the paradigm-it’s what we do. And thanks for the glass."

“Wouldn’t want to keep swapping spit, now would we. Who knows where your bloodydamn mouth has been.” He said, not quite meeting her gaze all of the sudden. She wondered if it was the alcohol playing tricks on her, or if Sevro was actually squirming.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

Nope, not the alcohol. Sevro was definitely squirming in his seat. She could work with this.

“Sevro…” He wasn’t looking at her. “Sevro, hey. Hey you.” 

“I’m right here princess.” He replied, and finally she had his full attention. “Why do you-“

“I think you should kiss me.” She told him, cutting him off and just as effectively choking him on his own breath.

Spluttering adorably, (evidently she now found Sevro adorable…in his own way. Shit, maybe she was more intoxicated than she had thought) his face began to burn. Blushing, he was actually blushing! She hadn’t seen anyone do that since Darrow, but she found the red rising on Sevro’s cheeks complimented his new eyes rather well.

“Preferably once you stop gasping for air, that is. You are going to need your lungs to kiss me after all.”

“Why…why would you think I would want to kiss a-“

“Bitch?” She suggested.

“-like you, anyway?

He was trying hard to pull off this tough bravado convincingly, but she could tell his buzz was fading and his embarrassment was getting the best of him. Golds didn’t get embarrassed though, so that much had to be the Red in him.

“You mean, you don’t?” She asked him innocently.

He let out a hiss through his teeth, dropping his palms to his lap to dig his fingers into his knees. “Victra…” His tone was strained, heavy with hesitation and…fear?

“It’s not a joke, you know.” She came around to his side of the table to sit upon the edge facing him. “I do want to kiss you, even if we are a bit inebriated. I've found in most situations that helps.”

A strange thought had popped into her head at his reaction. Surely Sevro had kissed someone before, hadn’t he? He obviously lacked people skills, and she wasn’t sure he had ever had a friend before Darrow, but he had to have…

With who though? Not Quinn, who had not reciprocated his affections, or Darrow even, who was a good friend…but not quite that good, as she knew from experience. At least a Pink, maybe? She didt know hardly anyone who hadn't paid for pleasures with the lesser color, but she didn’t think that his family had the money to be spending on luxuries like that, and she couldn’t for the life of her imagine this blushing man before him entering a brothel. For all his seething, snarling, snarling way, Sevro was a rather sensitive creature.

He was back to not looking at her. She didn’t like it, the insecurities radiating from his hunched form, it was so very different from his usual cocksure self. Maybe she had it all wrong though, maybe he just didn’t want to kiss her?

No…that couldn’t be it.

She said his name once more, little more than a whisper this time, and she could’ve sworn she saw a little tremble run through him. His knuckles whitened on his legs, and slowly, hesitantly, he rose to his feet.

“Come here.” She could touch him, could reach out and grab the material of his shirt and pull him to her, but she didn’t. She wanted him to come to her, to take those steps on his own.

He came to a stop directly in front of her, his waist between her knees where she sat upon the table before him. He didn’t make any move to touch her, but she hadn’t expected him to. She laid a hand upon his cheek and knew she wasn’t imagining it this time, he definitely trembled at her touch.

“You ever done this before?”

He only scoffed at her, but he might as well have screamed out an affirmative. Victra smiled, leaning in close so that her lips brushed his ears, her fingers lacing around the back of his head and pulling him tight against her.

“Well hold on tight Goblin, an Iron Rain’s got nothing on me.”

And she kissed him.

And she liked it.


End file.
